On a far more serious note than usual

I'm attempting catharsis.

Having just finished an unpleasant conversation with someone, I find myself in quite a reflective and introspective mood.  If this post depresses you, feel free to wait until the next one that's entertaining.  While this one may turn out to be enlightening, I'm damn sure it won't entertain you.

A good friend of mine asked a question the other day- How many of you bullied or were bullied when you were in school but are trying to teach your children to behave differently now?  And I answered with a little snippet about my experiences in high school and how they have shaped my responses now to social interactions with others.  I sit here wondering if maybe this is the struggle that I've had as the result of being a "gifted" kid. (I know that by simply being willing to identify myself as one of "those" people, the average person and possibly even readers of this blog will dismiss anything I have to say about how I feel as self absorbed, having a high opinion of myself, etc.... whatever.  If you truly knew me you'd know that I don't actually have any self esteem at all. But am constantly accused of it.) Anyone who spends time with me picks up pretty immediately that I'm a reasonably intelligent person.  Some have a higher opinion, which is flattering, but mostly I've just always found academic stuff (language especially) to be second nature and enjoyed "knowing" and letting the things I've learned shape who I am and what I want in life.  But if you read academic research about gifted kids, you see that they often struggle with the social aspects of growing up, as their world view isn't quite focused on the same point as their peers.  They come across as "not quite like us," and end up ostracized by the average peer group, usually bunching up in groups of similar "friends" with whom they forge an unusual "friendship" that is not quite the same as what other people enjoy with their social groups.

In high school it was particularly painful.  Probably because that's the time in our lives when we truly begin to pick up on the subtle differences between this person and that person, and those chemical responses bond groups of people into friendships.  In high school, I had a group of friends.  Sort of.  It was more like a group of other people who weren't quite right for the established social groups who ended up together by default because we all thought that we deserved a social group.  In truth I think I had one, maybe two actual friends.  And in truth, my willingness and desire to be friends with one of them no matter what the opinion that others held of her closed so many doors in my face that I will never go to a reunion, and will only even stay in contact with a handful of people I knew at that time in my life.  But it was worth it.  She was a true friend, and even though we lost contact during college, getting married, having kids, etc... just the little bit of interaction we have now (mostly on FB) reminds me that even in that time when nobody else liked us, we really, truly had each other.  (Thanks MBK, I love you and will never tell anyone your middle name, promise).  It got so bad that the group of people I thought were my peer group intentionally kept a graduation party a secret from ME because they didn't want me there. Not because I personally was so "wrong," but because a) I dared to be friends with this person and b) I dared to have developed feelings for a guy in our group and attempted to act upon them.  So I spent my high school graduation night at home with my parents, watching TV in my room.  Thanks.  Yes, I hate most of them for that.

So where does this leave me?  Well, now that I'm an adult and married to one of my "kind," I experience the same sort of crap regularly, but I admit to being fairly hypersensitive to it.  Mostly because the sting of the way I was treated for refusing to ostracize someone, I think.  Even 12 years later that hurt is still appallingly fresh.

Everywhere I go, I try to make friends with people.  I try to show that I am willing to accept you, whoever you are and whatever you do, no matter how different it is from me.  I will do anything that anyone asks me to do, as long as it's even remotely feasible.  I spread myself pretty thin.  And every time I start to feel myself falling into a "place" that I so desperately crave, I realize that I am being held outside by the same invisible barriers that have always kept me from everyone except my husband and a very small group of people who are more soulmate than just friend. I don't hide who I am.  But it seems that others hide their opinions in a way that I don't truly understand.  I don't understand the impulse to encourage someone to do something that you will judge and disparage them for behind their back.  And I have never, never understood why MY actions have always been judged far more harshly by the mob than those of others.  Am I held to a higher standard because I have a larger vocabulary?  Am I intentionally not invited to things because I understand things faster than others?  I always feel like there is a contingency of people who are content to use my strengths without reciprocating by offering the thing I crave the most; acceptance and a "place" to belong within the group.

In a series of meetings a few years ago, a group of teachers were trying to help another deal with the emotional tendencies of a young man who is substantially gifted.  While the rest of the group was trying to offer suggestions for how to reshape the young man's reactions to things, all I could think about was how this child was going to suffer.  His entire life the rest of the people around him were not going to see him for who he is, but they were going to judge his actions in comparison to what they had established as "normal."  And maybe that's what I've always done that gets me into trouble? Refusing to let the opinion of many dictate my opinion of one. Refusing to de-friend someone that the general consensus had found wanting.

So here we are again.  Once again I have clued in to the fact that despite efforts, I am found to be made of the incorrect cut of cloth.  And therefore, the barriers that I so desperately want to come down are caulked up tight, and I will be used for what I can do instead of wanted for who I am.  And all because I dared to not hide myself, to try to let people see me truthfully as I actually am, thinking that maybe in a new environment that would be accepted.  But it's not. And I guess I give up on ever finding a place other than my marriage that it is.